fic: The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth (Part 5)
Title: The Course Of True Love Never Did Run Smooth
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Spoilers: None whatsoever
Summary: AU. The Merlin cast in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Very little actual Shakespeare, more a comedy of errors.
-
Gwen corners him, softly-softly, on Thursday and quietly demands to know what happened.
"No, it doesn't matter, Gwen--"
"It matters to me."
Merlin feels immediately guilty. "It doesn't have to. It's not important."
"It's important to you, so it's important to me."
"Gwen, I--"
"Why are you being so evasive? You can tell me anything, you know that."
"That's not the point--" Merlin starts to say, but he spies Arthur over her shoulder. He's not coming over, not even looking their way, but Merlin is seized by the urge to scarper, just in case he does.
"Merlin!"
"Okay, okay!" he finally caves. "I slept with him, all right?"
Gwen looks stunned, then joyful. "That's wonderful!"
"No, it's really not."
"What? Why not?"
"It just isn't, okay?"
"Merlin--"
"Look, I can't even begin to describe how not-okay it is."
"You're being stupid," she says, and the forcefulness of her tone takes him aback. "There's nothing wrong with you and Arthur. He's nice, you're lovely, you get on like a house on fire--"
"That's just--" Merlin tries to interrupt, but she just carries on over him.
"--and if you 'can't even begin to describe' why you two shouldn't be together, then I have difficulty believing you have a valid reason at all."
Gwen glares at him and Merlin can't think of a thing to say. After a moment, she purses her lips, says,
"I thought so,"
and leaves him alone in the studio, feeling like he's been sent to sit on the naughty step.
-
It's opening night before anyone, especially Merlin, is at all ready. The lighting isn't finalised, one of the fairies still can’t pronounce 'Titania' properly and Uther is a wrathful, tyrannical, nervous wreck.
Merlin spends most of the first half of their last dress rehearsal in a sort of miasma because he found Arthur's jacket that morning, half hidden behind his sofa, and he has to give it back, but it's still in his bag because he hasn't managed to muster up the balls yet.
The balls in question only arrive five minutes before the performance starts for real, when the theatre is nearly filled with people, Gaius is muttering the opening lines under his breath and Merlin is so stricken with nerves that even confronting Arthur seems easier than going out there.
"Here," says Merlin, holding the jacket out at arm's length. "I took it, accidentally. Thought I should give it back."
Arthur looks at the jacket, then at him. "Merlin--"
"Just--Take it, Arthur," he says, shaking it slightly. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to nick it. Just take it, and then I'll go."
"I don’t want you to go," says Arthur, not making any sort of move for the jacket.
"What--"
"I'm not taking it. I want to talk to you."
"Arthur--"
"What's wrong with you?" says Arthur, softly. "I don't understand."
"I don't either, really."
There's a pause, and then Arthur says, "Why are we doing this? Did-- Did I do something? Is that what's wrong?"
"No! No, that's not it at all."
"Well, then why aren't we talking? Because I thought--" Arthur looks down at his boots. "Doesn't matter what I thought."
"I liked you," Merlin blurts out, then goes the whole hog. "Still do, actually. A lot. More than a lot."
Arthur opens his mouth and Merlin can tell he's going to say something big, something important, but a runner bursts in and calls them to the stage. Merlin has to stand next to Morgana in the wings, totally silent, and pray that Arthur holds that thought.
-
The entire cast watch from the wings as Will speaks the final lines and, when the curtains close, Merlin is deafened by the applause. The cast assemble on the stage and he stands between Morgana and Arthur, only dimly aware that he has a ridiculously large grin on his face. The curtains open again and he bows jerkily, dumbstruck with relief and exhilaration. He makes the mistake of glancing at Arthur as the curtains close and, suddenly, can't look anywhere else. Arthur's grinning right back, toothy and beautiful, and it takes a colossal effort to hug him instead of kiss.
"I'm sorry," Merlin murmurs. "I'm sorry, I've been a complete tit and--"
"I'm sorry too," says Arthur. "It's okay."
"Is it?" says Merlin.
"Of course it is," says Arthur, looking him in the eye. "Of course it's okay, I love you."
"Really?" says Merlin.
"Really," says Arthur, and kisses him.
Merlin thinks it should be surprising, Arthur loving him, but it's not. Not really. More like something slotting into it's rightful place. He slides a hand into Arthur's hair and nearly forgets to say it back, but when he pulls away to say things that Arthur probably already knows, he realises everyone is looking at them.
"Er, hi."
"Hi," says Morgana, sarcastically. She's looking amused, Will's looking stormy and Uther looks like he'd like to never see such a spectacle ever again. "Sorted yourselves out, then?"
"Yep," says Arthur.
"Probably not coming out for post-opening drinks, then?"
"Nope," says Arthur.
Merlin grins and ignores the rolling eyes, grabbing their things and leaving without changing out of costume. Outside the stage door, he pulls Arthur close and says,
"I love you too, you know."
"I did guess," smirks Arthur.
Merlin has to drag him home quick before he loses his mind and jumps Arthur in the middle of the street.
-
Lance calls the next morning at the crack of fucking dawn to ask how the play went. He protests time zone differences, which Merlin thinks is bollocks. He tells Lance this in short, rude words.
"Good lord, you are not a morning person," says Lance.
"You are depriving me of morning sex," replies Merlin. Arthur has left the bed to go make coffee, which is a deplorable substitute. "I'm entitled to be grumpy."
"Oh, yeah? Since when?"
"Since just recently. Your replacement is far superior."
Arthur reappears on cue and puts the coffee down and his tongue on Merlin's neck.
"Mm, yes. Much more fun."
"Thanks, Merlin, that's nice to know," says Lance and Merlin can almost hear him roll his eyes. "It went well, then?"
"I'm not telling you that!"
"The play, Merlin."
"Oh. Yeah, it went great. Couldn't have been better. What about you? You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm great," says Lance. "I've landed a role in this American sci-fi drama. My character's really cool--get this--I get to paint the future..."
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin
Spoilers: None whatsoever
Summary: AU. The Merlin cast in A Midsummer Night's Dream. Very little actual Shakespeare, more a comedy of errors.
-
Gwen corners him, softly-softly, on Thursday and quietly demands to know what happened.
"No, it doesn't matter, Gwen--"
"It matters to me."
Merlin feels immediately guilty. "It doesn't have to. It's not important."
"It's important to you, so it's important to me."
"Gwen, I--"
"Why are you being so evasive? You can tell me anything, you know that."
"That's not the point--" Merlin starts to say, but he spies Arthur over her shoulder. He's not coming over, not even looking their way, but Merlin is seized by the urge to scarper, just in case he does.
"Merlin!"
"Okay, okay!" he finally caves. "I slept with him, all right?"
Gwen looks stunned, then joyful. "That's wonderful!"
"No, it's really not."
"What? Why not?"
"It just isn't, okay?"
"Merlin--"
"Look, I can't even begin to describe how not-okay it is."
"You're being stupid," she says, and the forcefulness of her tone takes him aback. "There's nothing wrong with you and Arthur. He's nice, you're lovely, you get on like a house on fire--"
"That's just--" Merlin tries to interrupt, but she just carries on over him.
"--and if you 'can't even begin to describe' why you two shouldn't be together, then I have difficulty believing you have a valid reason at all."
Gwen glares at him and Merlin can't think of a thing to say. After a moment, she purses her lips, says,
"I thought so,"
and leaves him alone in the studio, feeling like he's been sent to sit on the naughty step.
-
It's opening night before anyone, especially Merlin, is at all ready. The lighting isn't finalised, one of the fairies still can’t pronounce 'Titania' properly and Uther is a wrathful, tyrannical, nervous wreck.
Merlin spends most of the first half of their last dress rehearsal in a sort of miasma because he found Arthur's jacket that morning, half hidden behind his sofa, and he has to give it back, but it's still in his bag because he hasn't managed to muster up the balls yet.
The balls in question only arrive five minutes before the performance starts for real, when the theatre is nearly filled with people, Gaius is muttering the opening lines under his breath and Merlin is so stricken with nerves that even confronting Arthur seems easier than going out there.
"Here," says Merlin, holding the jacket out at arm's length. "I took it, accidentally. Thought I should give it back."
Arthur looks at the jacket, then at him. "Merlin--"
"Just--Take it, Arthur," he says, shaking it slightly. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to nick it. Just take it, and then I'll go."
"I don’t want you to go," says Arthur, not making any sort of move for the jacket.
"What--"
"I'm not taking it. I want to talk to you."
"Arthur--"
"What's wrong with you?" says Arthur, softly. "I don't understand."
"I don't either, really."
There's a pause, and then Arthur says, "Why are we doing this? Did-- Did I do something? Is that what's wrong?"
"No! No, that's not it at all."
"Well, then why aren't we talking? Because I thought--" Arthur looks down at his boots. "Doesn't matter what I thought."
"I liked you," Merlin blurts out, then goes the whole hog. "Still do, actually. A lot. More than a lot."
Arthur opens his mouth and Merlin can tell he's going to say something big, something important, but a runner bursts in and calls them to the stage. Merlin has to stand next to Morgana in the wings, totally silent, and pray that Arthur holds that thought.
-
The entire cast watch from the wings as Will speaks the final lines and, when the curtains close, Merlin is deafened by the applause. The cast assemble on the stage and he stands between Morgana and Arthur, only dimly aware that he has a ridiculously large grin on his face. The curtains open again and he bows jerkily, dumbstruck with relief and exhilaration. He makes the mistake of glancing at Arthur as the curtains close and, suddenly, can't look anywhere else. Arthur's grinning right back, toothy and beautiful, and it takes a colossal effort to hug him instead of kiss.
"I'm sorry," Merlin murmurs. "I'm sorry, I've been a complete tit and--"
"I'm sorry too," says Arthur. "It's okay."
"Is it?" says Merlin.
"Of course it is," says Arthur, looking him in the eye. "Of course it's okay, I love you."
"Really?" says Merlin.
"Really," says Arthur, and kisses him.
Merlin thinks it should be surprising, Arthur loving him, but it's not. Not really. More like something slotting into it's rightful place. He slides a hand into Arthur's hair and nearly forgets to say it back, but when he pulls away to say things that Arthur probably already knows, he realises everyone is looking at them.
"Er, hi."
"Hi," says Morgana, sarcastically. She's looking amused, Will's looking stormy and Uther looks like he'd like to never see such a spectacle ever again. "Sorted yourselves out, then?"
"Yep," says Arthur.
"Probably not coming out for post-opening drinks, then?"
"Nope," says Arthur.
Merlin grins and ignores the rolling eyes, grabbing their things and leaving without changing out of costume. Outside the stage door, he pulls Arthur close and says,
"I love you too, you know."
"I did guess," smirks Arthur.
Merlin has to drag him home quick before he loses his mind and jumps Arthur in the middle of the street.
-
Lance calls the next morning at the crack of fucking dawn to ask how the play went. He protests time zone differences, which Merlin thinks is bollocks. He tells Lance this in short, rude words.
"Good lord, you are not a morning person," says Lance.
"You are depriving me of morning sex," replies Merlin. Arthur has left the bed to go make coffee, which is a deplorable substitute. "I'm entitled to be grumpy."
"Oh, yeah? Since when?"
"Since just recently. Your replacement is far superior."
Arthur reappears on cue and puts the coffee down and his tongue on Merlin's neck.
"Mm, yes. Much more fun."
"Thanks, Merlin, that's nice to know," says Lance and Merlin can almost hear him roll his eyes. "It went well, then?"
"I'm not telling you that!"
"The play, Merlin."
"Oh. Yeah, it went great. Couldn't have been better. What about you? You all right?"
"Yeah, I'm great," says Lance. "I've landed a role in this American sci-fi drama. My character's really cool--get this--I get to paint the future..."